Haze
by Nesloga
Summary: The third time it happens Harry is getting used to waking up with a jolt, the twenty sixth time brings a timid acceptance, and by the thousandth and thirty-ninth time he's chatting up Death like a good friend.


_A/N: Day five of a writing challenge. Thinking of posting additional Drabbles once I'm done with the WC._  
_Word Count: 917_  
_Summary: The third time it happens Harry is getting used to waking up with a jolt, the twenty sixth time brings a timid acceptance, and by the thousandth and thirty-ninth time he's chatting up Death like a good friend. _

**Haze**

Harry hates dying; for him it's never the end, only a chance to talk to Death again. At first he had been frightened of the darkness that would swallow him whole for those _brieftoolongnotenough_ periods of time, but over the years he's learned to accept the moments as a natural thing. Because that's what it is to him, for The Master of Death dying over and over is a norm. So he's learned to adapt to his multiple deaths, while he still hates the feeling of floating in nothing he accepts it for what it is, something that he will never be able to shake. For the Hollows had chosen him as their Master and refused to leave, dooming him to a never ending existence.

As the years have passed and he's died again and again, he's talked to Death. They've discussed a whole range of topics; at one point debating the meaning of life and another arguing over what made a dictator. A few times he's won their discussions, but more often then not Death would win their squabbles; if only because it was able to pull from a greater source of knowledge.

After meeting Death so many times Harry often found himself slightly bored, sure Death was a good companion. Depending on when you caught it, that was. But Harry had spent a millennium in close association with the dark figure and after a bit the shadowy horseman could turn droll.

So when he dies his six hundred and fifty-eighth time and finds Death already talking to someone he's intrigued. Because Death has never talked to anyone but him, it was never _able_ to. The mere presence of Death would send any soul but his careening off to its final destination, but this _man_, this spirit, was talking to Death!

—-

The Doctor is _almostmaybenotreally _familiar with dying. He'd done it a few times; sure, his deaths never lasted long. Only a few seconds really. But he died for those few precious seconds, his soul was pulled away from his regenerating body for half a moment. And what he'd discovered in those few half moments is that the myths are true, that there is a Death, and really, that shouldn't surprise him as much as it does. After what he's seen and done and experienced, but it _does_. Every time he dies he's surprised when he sees the shadowy figure watching over his body. Or, what he assumes is his body. He's never really certain, because everything get's a bit hazy when you die. The edges on things blur a tad and sound get's a little screwy. Maybe that's why he's never sure if Death is real, he never really sees it after all.

At least, he hadn't until he met _him_. Harry Potter, the famed Master of Death. Another myth proved true! A myth that brought light to Death's dark domain, a legend that forced the blurry edges to solidify and the screwy sound to settle and focus. The Doctor thinks that Harry is able to influence Death's realm so much because he is truly immortal, he is never ending life. Harry disagrees though, he insists that it's because he is Death's Master; that Death cannot hide from him, so is forced to drop its pretenses and show its true form. Death is silent on this matter, like it is on many matters.

But the point of the matter is that Harry was something different in a realm where The Doctor thought all was constant. He had been so sure that only Death existed on that plane, but then, on his fifth death, Harry had appeared. He had come with a bright light that made the whole place shake and quiver; that made Death stand tall before sweeping into a bow with a single word slipping out. _Master_.

—-

Death is painfully familiar with how its Master feels about it. Its Master hates it, hates it while caring for it. Because its Master _isstilloncewas_ a human, and so still had some humanity stuck in him. So Death was content, being almost hated by its Master, it was better then being by itself again. It was better then being the only Being that would last forever; because even if it had the Time Lords they were not everlasting. They all would eventually die like everything else. In fact, the last Time Lord was slowly approaching his final death as well. One by one his free passes were being used and soon Death would have to collect The Doctor's soul.

Or, it would of, if The Doctor hadn't met Master. Because meeting Death's Master in Death's realm was an oddity, an oddity that made the last Time Lord even more special. For this oddity bound the alien to Master ever so slightly. It was a light bond, something that The Doctor and Death's Master probably didn't even realize existed. But no matter how light the connection was, it was there. It existed and it would give The Doctor a few more passes, a few extra deaths. For every time Death's Master died The Doctor got another pass, another chance at life.

—-

For all three of them _HarryTheDoctorDeath_, time was a mess. It blurred past them with ease; never truly touching them. Sure, Harry would die, The Doctor would regenerate, and Death would meet them both. But they were never touched by Time. Because Time refused to talk to Death, or those that Death had touched.


End file.
